


Take A Hint

by cowboykylux



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Consensual Possession, F/M, Flip Zimmerman and His Darling Jewish Wife, Making Out, Married Couple, Teasing, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: A rookie at the station has eyes for Flip. Unfortunately for her, you're determined to show her just how happily married he is.
Relationships: Flip Zimmerman/Reader, Flip Zimmerman/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 139





	Take A Hint

“Hey Jimmy, Ron!” You greet your friends upon entering the lobby of the station. “You seen my man?”

It’s lunch time at the station for Flip, or at least, coming up on the end of lunch time. Normally you’re there at the top of the hour, but there’s only twenty minutes left on his break and you’re looking around the bullpen to see if you can find him loitering around, waiting for you near the lobby in that way he sometimes does.

You’ve got the baby on your hip, who is entirely still snuggly and yawning from just having woken up from his nap, and your bag over your shoulder which holds the lunches you packed so lovingly for Flip, lunch that he’s now going to have to scarf down if he doesn’t want to get in trouble.

Jimmy comes over to you and happily takes the kid from your arms and kisses you on the cheek, letting you stretch your muscles out and re-adjust the strap of the bag over your shoulder. The baby fusses for all of two seconds at the shift from being in your arms to his, but then once he recognizes Jimmy and Ron he’s all smiles.

“Hi sweetheart, hey bud!” He’s very sweet in the way he talks to your baby, always so eager to be the best uncle he can be, before walking with you to the detective units, which operate out of a separate office in the station than the main bullpen. “He’s getting mic’d up in one of the back rooms.”

“You’re not doing it?” You ask the boys with a quirked eyebrow.

Jimmy and Flip and Ron were the three musketeers around the station, ever since the Klan case went so well. They all usually stuck together and worked together on cases, including doing all the set-up. You frowned for a moment, because you didn’t know that Flip was planning on going undercover today at all, and he’s pretty good about mentioning that.

“It’s not for real, we got a new recruit and the rookie’s gotta learn how to do it, that’s all.” Ron catches the look on your face and explains after he too kisses your cheek in greeting, making you feel ten times better.

“Oh good for him.” You smile, glad that Flip is being a good detective and being a helper.

“Her.” Ron corrects you, making your eyebrows shoot up.

“Her?” You ask in disbelief, shocked and proud in an excited way, a very happy way. The station was slowly but surely catching up with the times, and it was about fucking time that a woman was hired in a capacity other than a secretary. You wanted to take credit for it, being so annoying and badgering Bridges about pushing for more equality, but you knew this was something bigger than yourself.

Still you were smiling so wide, enough that the baby was making little happy noises and reaching for you to share in the excitement.

“Her.” Jimmy nods, patting the baby on the back and getting him to not be such a wiggle worm.

“Good for her!” You want to go meet her, want to congratulate her for being the first woman in the narcotics unit, but Ron puts a hand on your arm to stop you for a moment.

“There’s a bit of a problem though.” He says, and you frown.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” You ask, curious.

Jimmy and Ron exchange a glance, a silent debate of who is going to be the one to tell you, when finally Ron gives in since he was the one who brought it up in the first place.

“She doesn’t seem to be able to take a hint.” He says, clearing his voice, and your good spirits drop into aggravation. 

“Which back room?” You ask, already forming a little plan.

She’s a pretty young thing, you’re annoyed to see. Long red hair feathered out like Farrah Fawcett that she keeps tossing out of her face in an attempt to catch your husband’s attention. You watch for a little while through the strip of window in the door of one of the back interrogation rooms where the detectives like to change into their undercover outfits, and your blood would be boiling.

It would be, if Flip were any level of interested at all, which bless him, he isn’t. He’s not even looking at her, he’s reaching over to fiddle with some of the tape, not making eye contact and certainly not indulging in her conversation.

You open the door quietly, hanging in the frame of it for a moment.

“Jesus you’re fit.” She says, her voice breathy and performative as she takes the tape from Flip’s reluctant hands, and presses the small mic to his chest, “You must work out like, what? Twice a week? Three times?”

“Something like that.” Your husband mutters, and you smirk because you can swear you see him rolling his eyes.

“Make sure the tape doesn’t cover the mic otherwise there’s no point.” You speak up, startling the two of them.

The rookie is defensive, and she crosses her arms, sour that you’ve interrupted the moment that will never happen.

“Who are you?” She snaps, before getting mildly pushed aside by your over-eager husband, who stands up from where he’s sitting on the table to get his arms around you.

“Hi ketsl.” He gives you a shy smile, ducks down to kiss your cheeks nose chin face.

“How’s my man?” You laugh, cupping his cheeks in your own hands, pulling him in for a proper smooch right on the lips, right in front of this girl.

“Better now that you’re here.” He hums, leaning down for another one, and another one, and another one, his hands smoothing down your back, roaming down down down to your ass to give it a good squeeze and make you giggle against his lips.

You’re both being a little mean, you know, putting on this show right in front of this girl. But Flip was your husband, and he was clearly uncomfortable by these advances, advances that she should know better – for a lot of reasons – than to try and push.

So with Flip practically glued to you and your arms looped around his neck, you spare her a glance.

“You have to go check to make sure the mic is working.” You say, and you could practically see the embarrassment and realization in her face from how she screwed up.

“How do I do that?” She asks, her arms still crossed, although now she knows better than to be so snippy with you.

“There’s a pair of headphones set up to a tape recorder, go find it and listen in. Jimmy will help you with the signal.” You answer her, returning your attention back to Flip, back to his soft brown eyes and his big nose that’s rubbing against your cheek, coaxing a dimple out of your smile.

She doesn’t say anything on her way out, and you should stop there, but you find that you don’t actually want to. Flip knows exactly what you’re doing, and he plays into it too – although he’s entirely genuine when he steadies your face in his hands and presses his forehead against yours.

“I missed you.” He says, grouchy at the time. With this additional delay, there really wasn’t much time for anything, and you wondered if you could sweet-talk Bridges into giving him an extended lunch, or at least into letting you stay for a while if you’re not too much of a distraction.

Everyone always liked to joke how it was such a wonder that you and Flip ever got anything done, with how fucking sappy and horny you are for each other, but the reality of it was that your man was much more productive when you were around because he’s a total show-off and wants to impress you with all the cool things he does at the station.

“I know, I’m sorry honey I would have come sooner but the baby went down for his nap late.” You explain, and he nods in understanding.

“You’re here now though.” He says, like this is some great relief on his tired bones, like you are the balm that soothes his soul, and you are. You know you are.

“I am here.” You nod, walking him back towards the steel table of the interrogation room. You sit on the table and spread your legs so he can step between them, knowing fully well that the rookie must be listening in now You lower your voice and spread your palms over Flip’s muscular chest, “And I am in sore need of a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?” He asks, devious, as his hands work their way into your blouse, cupping one of your breasts and making you sigh.

No one would see, if the two of you got up to anything in here. There was the window on the door yes, but no one comes back this way, and besides, everyone’s on lunch still for another couple minutes.

It wasn’t a long time, but it was enough time to indulge in one another a little bit – and to prove a point.

“Oh Flip,” You sigh, not entirely dramatically, as you push your chest into his palm more fully, expanding your rib cage with your deep breaths, “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

“All yours ketsl, only for you.” He nods, and you smile shyly at him because you can tell in his voice that’s not something he’s saying just because, that’s something he’s saying because he means it.

You kiss him then, because you have to. You simply have to kiss him and hold him close and let yourself get lost in his embrace. His tongue slides against yours slowly, purposefully, thoughtfully. He knows how to suck just enough on your lips and how to run his teeth along the edge of your kiss-swollen mouth, knows how to grip your jaw just so, how to squeeze and pinch at your tits enough to make you moan for him.

And you do, you do moan for him. Soft sounds in the back of your throat are the only things that cut through the noise of panting breaths from both your lungs, breathing into one another’s mouths making yourselves dizzy dizzy dizzy. You smile against him, can’t get enough of him, can’t stop making out with him.

His hands are busy with your body and yours wind into his hair, comb it carefully into place where you blow-dried it only a few hours ago. You could understand why this girl was fawning all over him – he’s so fucking handsome. Too handsome for his own good sometimes, you think as you chuckle to yourself and kiss him back, passionate and hot and heavy.

The firmness, the solidness of his body is so appealing. His white undershirt is just the right amount of tight to show off how sturdy he is, how his pecs are so broad and his neck is so thick. His thumb brushes over your nipple again and you gasp, the two of you chuckling against each other’s lips until he pulls his hand away, knowing that if he gets you any more worked up he’ll probably wind up fucking you right there – and that isn’t part of the free show that this girl gets.

Speaking of, the two of you slow things down, until your breathing is even once again and he’s buttoning up your blouse at the same time that you fix the buttons on his flannel. You’re both flushed and in good moods once again, and he helps you hop off the table, kisses you once more for good measure.

“How’s that signal rookie?” Flip asks right into the mic, and you bite your smile to keep from laughing right in her ear.

And when the poor girl squeaks out an, _it’s good_ , from the other side of the thick metal door, Flip takes off the mic and unclips it from the battery pack in his pocket, and the two of you can’t help but grin at one another.

“Let’s have some lunch.” You offer, not wanting to forget about the bag left on his desk or your friends entertaining the baby.

He nods and opens the door for you, the two of you a perfect picture of composure. You pass the girl on your way to his desk, and she ducks her head in embarrassment. You don’t think you’ll be bothered with her again, hopefully now she’ll learn how to take a hint.


End file.
